Unable To Stay, Unwilling To Leave
by writingluverr82
Summary: "I'm still here. I'm not dead. Please, I can't talk to you much longer. Death Eaters…revenge on Harry…" her voice was fading. "Please, help me." The Hermione he was looking at was no longer the Hermione he remembered.


_Darkness surrounds me, I am reaching for you only._

He shot up on his elbows and broke in a cold sweat for the third time that week. Ronald Weasley rubbed his face in his hands, rubbing away the sweat glistening on his forehead. He looked up at the empty room that only contained a bed and small closet. Everything he owned was no longer in his childhood and teenage room, but located in his flat he had shared with Hermione Granger. He sighed and sat up against his headboard, wiping the silent tears from his cheeks. He wished she could have been here to wipe them for him, he wished he could have woken up to her when he had a bad dream, holding her in his arms as she told him everything would be okay.

The small light from the moon poured in from the open window, and it suddenly made him feel lonely. He remembered the nights where he could feel her warm skin against his, when he knew she really was there and wasn't just a possibility or his imagination. When he had her in his embrace he felt whole like the war had never happened, like he didn't lose his brother after all.

Ronald Weasley couldn't come to terms with reality. He couldn't grasp the idea of his only love never returning to him. The only thoughts in his mind were fantasies. Reality wasn't a term that was infested in his mind. He felt like he was stuck in his 15-year-old body again, only imagining Hermione in his arms and one day she would see he was the one for her. But this no longer was about her coming to him, it was about she left him, unwillingly, but still left him.

He lay back down on his pillow, wet with tears. Ron could still smell the vanilla and lilac from her hair on the pillow next to him, when she had spent the night before the war. He could still feel the way her hair felt between his fingers. Sometimes he wished he could join her, wherever she may be. Dance with her one last time, kiss her one last time. He would say everything he was never able to say to her before she left. He would tell her he loved her more than anything, he would say he missed her terribly every second he was away from her, he would cry in her arms as she told him she was sorry she died the way she had. She would tell him she was sorry for leaving him alone. She would apologize for ever getting pregnant because she wouldn't have died giving birth to Rose who she had barely touched or saw.

"Don't apologize for that," he would whisper into her ear. "We brought life into this world. A beautiful baby girl who looks like us."

"I wouldn't have had to leave you, Ron. I wouldn't have had to leave our baby. I wish I could have survived." She would whisper back, pressing her forehead against his. He would be able to feel her warm breath against his face and her soft skin against his forehead. "I didn't want to leave you." Tears would begin to form in her eyes. "I…I just didn't…I couldn't…I promise I held on for as long as I could. But then I felt someone's arms wrap around me, I thought he was you, but he wasn't…and I didn't have my wand…and I was too weak…" she would be sobbing uncontrollably.

"Hermione, what do you mean?" this was no longer a 'What if' situation. He could see the pain in her eyes.

"I'm still here. I'm not dead. Please, I can't talk to you much longer. Death Eaters…revenge on Harry…" her voice was fading. "Please, help me." The Hermione he was looking at was no longer the Hermione he remembered. She turned pale, her body began to shrink, her bones sticking out from her skin, she looked like she barely had anything to eat in weeks, her clothes were ripped up and dirty. Her arms were covered in scars spelling the word 'Mudblood'. "I know you will find me, Ron." She placed her bony fingers on his cheek, rubbing her thumb in small circles. "I still love you." Her hands slowly dissolved, Ron tried to grasp them with everything he had, but she was gone.

His head shot up from the pillow, panting heavily. He placed his face in his hands, but took them away when he realized the tears on his cheeks. Hermione was _alive. _She wasn't alive in his imagination anymore. She was barely hanging on, but still alive.

"Bloody Hell," Ron shot out of bed, rushing to find Harry. _What did this dream really mean?_

_A/N: Finally! I've added a Harry Potter series! I'm so very, very happy! I need your opinion, should I continue? It was intentionally only supposed to be a one-shot, but my mind wandered and came up with this. It's really short, but that's only because I wanted to see if people think I should continue._


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